YA so NBU, OP. And I don't even live in London.
I hate tourists. Despite the fact I am regularly one. Perhaps it's fairer to say I hate the phenomenon of tourists rather than the individuals (although the prize idiots who decide to stop at the bottom of the escalators to gawk at a map certainly would make my top 10).
Whenever I see the queues outside the NHM I just cross the road to the V&A, where there is never a queue. I adore the V&A, so it's not a heartbreak, but my first degree was geology and as an ex-curator I am a massive museum enthusiast, so I do like to get to see the NHM every now and then. I ventured there a couple of weeks ago with a group of university friends, and even in late January I had to queue for 40 minutes! For most of that I had a delightfully overexcited child (NOT mine) with incredibly ineffectual parents whacking the back of my legs every 5 minutes.
Many people go to Paris and say it would be perfect were it not for the French. I say it would be perfect without the swarms of tourists, who clog the pavements, stick padlocks on bridges and insist on looking at everything through their ipad despite the signs saying "No Photographs" in a veritable Babylon of languages.
I live currently in a delightful little rural idyll of central Britain. I am fortunate to live in one of the less touristy villages. My colleague, who has a beautiful house in one of the VERY touristy villages, hates the school holidays. He gets people peering in his windows, taking pictures. He has found tourists in his garden and every year, without fail, they actually try the door to come in. If it's a nice day, he has the back door open. Tourists wander into the garden and INTO his house; this has happened twice in the 18 months I've known him. They used to park all over his front garden until he installed some ornamental fuck-off-boulders. His car usually emerges after each season with several new dents or scratches.
There was a scary incident a few years ago where some daft airheaded bint clambered over a field gate with her two young boys, ignoring the big, red "BEWARE OF THE BULL" sign, because "they wanted to see if the bull had a ring through its nose". They were bloody lucky noone got hurt.
Tourists are fuckers!